Big Time Problems
by itsLALA
Summary: You sit there staring at the analog clock that is placed on the burgundy wall, the same burgundy wall you and your husband painted together when you first bought this house. Though, that was 7 years ago and you're both much older than you used to be and you're both much more responsible and mature than you used to be. - Semi Official One Shot Day 2013 - James/Katie - OneShot -


**Big Time Problems**

By: itsLALA

**Semi Official One Shot Day 2013**

* * *

You sit there staring at the analog clock that is placed on the burgundy wall, the same burgundy wall you and your husband painted together when you first bought this house. Though, that was 7 years ago and you're both much older than you used to be and you both are much more responsible and mature than you used to be. Or, you're supposed to be. You're husband just can't grasp that fact yet.

3:15

That's the time right now, 3:15 in the morning.

You roll your eyes and pick up the bottle of tequila and the glass that remained empty. You roll your eyes again and throw the glass at the wall in a fit of rage; you don't know what to think. So you don't, you pick up the tequila and drink from the bottle. Glasses are for people that have control, you don't.

You're angry because life was supposed to be easy and it was anything but that.

You're angry because he promised, he promised he'd be there for you and he hasn't been.

You're angry because that damn bottle of tequila is on its last drop and you don't have anymore!

You run your hands through your tousled hair and you could just tell you look a mess because your hair is greasy and you don't care because you have nobody to impress anymore.

You glance at the clock again and it seems like time is going by so slow because you glance the clock change from 3:16 to 3:17 and you could have sworn 2 hours passed but then again you're hammered out of your mind and everything is foggy and you can't be sure about anything anymore.

You stare at the empty tequila bottle in your hand and it's like everything is moving in slow motion, the bottle slips from your hand and it takes almost a full minute for it to reach the floor though once it does it spins on its base, cracks, hits the floor, then shatters. You blink back your tears and look away from the bottle, it's sad because that broken bottle that has shattered into a million tiny pieces represents your life right now.

It was too late to fix anything.

Getting up carefully, you leave the den and lock the door behind you. You sniff and rub the back of your hand to your wet cheeks trying to get the tears to disappear.

You walk up the stairs quietly, though not before looking at the front door with a disappointed look on your face. You stand in front of one of the doors in the hall that has a big green 'L' contrasting on the white door. You touch the letter with a sad smile and open the door quietly, there in the middle of the green and brown room was your pride and joy, your 7 year old son Lucas. He looked so much like his father but his personality was so much like yours.

He moves in his sleep and you give a small smile, he was the center of your universe and as long as Lucas was still breathing you would be too. You close his door quietly and make your way to your bedroom, the one you shared with your husband. You look around the beige room and you can't help but glare, 7 years ago this was your favorite room in the house because it was yours and his. It was _ours_ and now it was the place you hated, it brought back memories you didn't want to relive and you couldn't help but cry because everything in your life is just turning into turmoil and your brother warned you but you just didn't listen, because you're Katie and Katie is her own person.

3:28

You don't bother to change into more comfortable clothes because what's the point? You cry yourself to sleep and before you doze off into unconsciousness you put a pillow between yourself and the body that snuck into the bedroom only a few seconds ago because you want nothing to do with him. You don't want to be touched by him and you don't want to touch him. The pillow between your two bodies provides that barrier.

However, the pillow still can't block the cheap Wal-Mart perfume scent that radiates off of his clothing, and it's not yours.

3:34

You wake up at 9:12 because it's a Saturday and your son has to go to soccer practice for 10:30, you run a muscular hand through your hair and you know you've messed up already because your wife is in the bathroom and steam is coming from beneath the bathroom door. Though you've messed up you still know her like the back of your hand, she only showers with that much heat when she's troubled and the fact you came home at 3:30 last night didn't ease her anymore.

You let her finish the hot water because you don't want to argue with her this early in the morning and more than probably your son is already up and waiting for either you or your wife to come downstairs to make him breakfast. You smile at the thought of your son, you love him, he's always been the light in your world and back when things weren't so complicated, so was your wife.

You still love her, and you'd still do anything for her. You just don't understand why you haven't been there for her, and you suddenly feel the urge to try and fix things between you two and being the man you are, you set it in your head, after you take Lucas to soccer practice you'll talk to her. Things will go back to normal.

9:20 and the water stops, you close your eyes slightly and watch as she emerges from the bathroom and a wave of heat exits behind her. You see her stare at you for a few seconds and you see the love and longing in her eyes and she almost smiles but she turns away before you could see any of that, you want to grab her and hold her and whisper to her that everything is going to be OK but you don't understand why you don't. You let her go.

9:35

You've been at the oven for almost 10 minutes and you want to cry, but your son is behind you and you can't break down in front of him. He'd ask if you're okay and you know you can't lie to him.

You finger the paper in one of the pockets in your apron and you debate on whether or not you should bring it up to your husband, you can't keep doing this to yourself but you can't do it to your son either. He's only 7.

Though you don't have much time to debate because your husband comes downstairs and your son giggles excitedly as he runs out to the car, "I'll be in the car daddy!"

"Daddy" that crushes your heart and makes your knees weak all at the same time.

"I'll be back."

You only nod your head at his words and you watch him leave, again.

You know he's going to drop Lucas off at soccer practice but your heart clenches every time he leaves because you can never be too sure if he's coming back. And you know that's horrible but it's also true.

You watch him throw Lucas over his shoulder and you hear your son give a loud laugh and you smile for the first time at the scene, you look away quickly before you start to cry and resume breakfast.

10:40

He comes through the doors and you quickly put the papers you were looking at in your pocket and stand at the counter again. You feel him behind you and your eyes narrow.

You don't have to look at him, you can tell his mouth is opened about to say something, his hands are in his pockets, and he's rocking back and forth on his heels.

He's predictable.

You shake your head and pick up a plate, and set it on the table, "Eat."

You say it so blankly and you don't know why you sound like that but he listens, he sits at the table and eyes the food wearily. You roll your eyes at him and sit a mug of coffee on the table beside the plate.

"Drink."

You watch him from the other side of the table, and he looks back at you. It's the first time you both made eye contact with each other in weeks and you can't help but feel it burn but you don't look away. He looks at the cup again and you scoff.

"I didn't poison it, although I could." You aren't that type of girl to do such a thing to someone no matter how much heartache the brought to your life but he's also the father of your child and you can't do that to Lucas, although it's true; you are capable of doing so.

He ignores that though and replies on a different topic, "I want to fix us, Katie."

Katie rolls her eyes at his declaration. Fix them? It was far too late for that, though she appreciates his attempt.

"I smelt the perfume on your shirt last night; it's far too late to be fixed."

He looks down ashamed and before he has the chance to reply you stand and take the papers from out of the apron pocket and place them down in front of him.

"I want a divorce James."

You inform him gently, you don't know how he'll take hearing this but you also don't care. All he does is give you excuses as to why he doesn't come home until 4 in the morning and you're pretty sure his son is smart enough to know something isn't right and you don't have time to explain to Lucas day in and day out that things are just fine between his father and yourself.

He doesn't look at you and you didn't expect him to.

"I'll be back whenever, don't forget to pick up Lucas."

You tell him as you take your apron off and walk out the front door.

This time he'll be waiting on you; you won't ever cry again.


End file.
